


Room Service

by ZenTheRainbowUnicorn (FlightlessPhoenix)



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 05:52:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8044849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlightlessPhoenix/pseuds/ZenTheRainbowUnicorn
Summary: It’s a strange sort of family vacation, but after all the stress with the hacker and the party and Zen’s press conference, the RFA had decided upon a weekend getaway to an island in the southern part of the country.





	Room Service

**Author's Note:**

> A few small spoilers for Zen's route -- nothing huge, just a brief mention of two events that occurred. If you've played up to day 10ish of his route you'll be fine. Enjoy!

It’s a strange sort of family vacation, but after all the stress with the hacker and the party and Zen’s press conference, the RFA had decided upon a weekend getaway to an island in the southern part of the country.

It’s a little odd seeing everyone together again in person. The last time was at the party half a year ago. You’ve seen the members individually on occasion since then—you and Jaehee try to get together for coffee at least once a month (and sometimes go to see Zen’s shows together); you saw the latest Star Battles movie with Seven and Yoosung; and Jumin even invited you out for dinner once when Zen was particularly busy with rehearsals (though Zen’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he found out).

And then there was Zen. Ever since the whole bomb fiasco you’d officially moved in with him, eventually signing a lease together for a slightly larger apartment just last month. You figure you must be an expert on moving, now, as this is your third move this year.

You lean on the railing of the balcony outside your hotel room, watching as the sun drifts lower and lower towards the horizon. The sea breeze ruffling your hair feels like it’s taking all of your worries away with it. The next RFA party still isn’t for another six months, but already the scale is several times larger than the first party. If you’re not working or chatting with the RFA, you’re usually coordinating party details and emailing guests. It’s a monumental task and eats up much of your time, but the payoff is worth it.

You hear the balcony door slide open and glance over your shoulder to see Zen step out, flashing you a dazzling smile. He sneaks up behind you and pulls you into a backwards hug. “I wondered where you went after dinner,” he says, and kisses the top of your head. “Should’ve known you’d want to watch the sun set.”

You lean back into his embrace and sigh happily. Zen squeezes you closer in response and you stand together quietly as the sun slips below the water.

You’re still admiring the rich reds and violets tinting the horizon when Zen slides his hands lower down your body and nibbles lightly at your ear. “Mmm,” you murmur as his fingers brush along the skin by your hips, and your breath hitches in your throat. He seems to take this as a sign of agreement and presses your body even closer to his, trailing a hand up your side to outline the bottom of your bra beneath your shirt.

You squirm in his arms and tug at his hands. “Zen, we’re… we’re out on a balcony, we can’t…” Your protests don’t sound particularly forceful.

Zen presses his forehead to yours and kisses you lightly on the nose. “As you wish, my princess,” he says, and you’re both relieved and disappointed at his answer for the briefest of moments before Zen abruptly scoops you up in his arms and carries you honeymoon-style back into the hotel room.

“Zen, ah wait, what’s…” Your voice trails off as Zen sets you down on your feet, then steals the rest of your words away by pressing his lips to yours. You sigh into the kiss as he runs his hands down your body, hooking a thumb inside the waistband of your jeans. He smells sweetly of cologne and sea breeze, and tastes a little like the apple tart that was served for dessert.

You reach your hands up to tangle them in his hair, drawing his face towards your own for another kiss. His strong arms press your body so close to his that you’re not sure if you’re the one supporting your own weight any more.

Zen lightly traces his fingers along the skin at the back of your neck, then dips his head down to kiss you slowly across your collarbone. His lips reach the neckline of your shirt and he pulls at the fabric with his hands, desiring more skin to explore with soft kisses. Your hands drop down to your waist and you move to tug your shirt over your head when you hear a knock on the hotel room door. “Room service~” calls a familiar voice.

Zen pauses for a moment, his lips hovering by your shoulder, then pulls back slightly. He gently pushes you down to sit on the hotel bed and strides towards the door to open it as you straighten your shirt once again.

There’s no one immediately visible in the hallway, so Zen takes another step out of the room to look around. “Seven, I swear, if that was—ahh!”

Seven springs out from beside the doorway, a white blur in his hands which he holds it up towards Zen like Rafiki in The Lion King. It meows loudly and Zen almost falls over himself backing up. “I brought Ellie!” Seven says, and you could swear his eyes are downright sparkling behind the lenses of his striped glasses.

Zen slams the door closed on Seven, sneezing. You can hear Elizabeth 3rd meowing out in the hallway and what sounds like Jumin’s voice from far away, yelling for Luciel. You can’t help but giggle as you get up from the bed and hand Zen a tissue. As he takes it from you he gives you quite possibly the saddest puppy-dog eyes you’ve ever seen. You shake your head and kiss him gently on the cheek. “Seven’s just having a bit of fun,” you say. “It’s not often the six of us get to go anywhere together.”

Zen wipes his eyes and sniffles. “That guy’s such a jerk, bringing his cat along, anyway.”

You murmur your sympathy and brush a stray cat hair from Zen’s shirt. “Next time, we’ll lock the door,” you say, letting your hand linger by Zen’s chest.

“Next time?” Zen says, perking up. Then he suddenly gets a funny look in his eyes and sneezes a few more times over his shoulder. “Oh…” he says, and sniffles again.

You hand him another tissue. “Next time, definitely. Though I do think Elizabeth 3rd won this round.”


End file.
